


Don't Take My Sunshine Away

by Maybeanartist02



Category: Fictif, Fictif: Last Legacy, Last Legacy
Genre: F/M, Fantasy Violence, Pain, Scars, Violence, not beta-ed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-30
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:53:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22482112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maybeanartist02/pseuds/Maybeanartist02
Summary: Anne is kidnapped, and Felix goes feral to get her back.
Relationships: Felix Escellun/Anne Nova(OC), Felix Escellun/MC, Felix Escellun/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 30





	Don't Take My Sunshine Away

_Pain_.

Throbbing, hot pain.

At the moment, it’s all Anne can register as the thug lets go of her hair, and she collapses onto her knees, then flops forward as all strength leaves her body. She’s bloody, weak, and drifting in an out of consciousness.

It’s her own fault for running her mouth.

But it’s _theirs_ for mocking Felix.

She’s lost track of time in the windowless room, but it had to be over a day, at _least_. She clings to her consciousness like a lifeline, biting her lip so hard it bleeds, just to stay awake. She’s cried so much she feels dried out and raw, exhaustion washing over her in waves.

_I can’t die here,_ she thinks, as her eyelids close for a second, and Felix appears before her. she opens her eyes, and he’s gone, and she swallows more tears, and her mind screams at her:

_You promised you’d never leave him._

_You can’t die here._

X

For the last 8 hours, they’d been plotting their counterattack.

A fucking ransom.

Those thugs wanted a ransom for Anne.

Like Felix would ever pay them a single piece of _copper_ , much less a chest of _gold_.

Now he runs down a stone hallway, Anisa and Sage holding off a room of underlings, as he follows the torches to the end of the hall. He can feel her now, just behind the next corner’s door, and as he slams into the wall, running too fast to turn the corner, his mind growls:

_I can’t lose her too, I can’t lose her. I can’t, I won’t, I can’t—_

And he gasps for air, breaking into a sprint with a desperate whisper:

“I’m almost there,” he scowls, “wait for me. Please, _Anne_.”

And he reaches the last hallway separating him from her, and magic springs to his fingertips—explosive, raw—and with a loud BANG—

The door flies open, crushing a man under it’s weight, the other part of it dangling off the hinges, and he growls, eyes glowing with barely contained magic, hands coated in green flame and a phantom scythe—

“ ** _Don’t touch her_** ,” he growls. “ ** _Get away from her_**.”

His voice is deep and rough, and several thugs flinch away. One, however brave or stupid he may be currently irrelevant, steps forward.

“What? She your girlfriend or somethin’?”

Felix’ brows draw together, then he quirks one, “And if she _is_?” he snarls, “that doesn’t change a **_fucking_** thing. Get **_away from her_**. I will _not_ ask again, _gentlemen_.”

X

The smell of ozone and a bitter chill fill her nostrils, even before the loud bang of the door—

_Felix_.

She forces her eyes to open as the door swings off it’s hinges, catching sight of him, only for a second, but long enough to have her entire body relax.

His magic power is overflowing, as shown by his hands engulfed in flame and holding a phantom scythe, and the supernatural glow of his eyes, currently _clearly_ green. The entire room is filled with the smell of his magic, the feeling so familiar Anne finally, finally closes her eyes.

“ ** _Don’t touch her_** ,” he growls. “ ** _Get away from her_**.”

His voice is deep and rough, barely recognizable—

But she does.

“What? She your girlfriend or somethin’?” a thug asks gruffly.

“And if she _is_?” he snarls, “that doesn’t change a **_fucking_** thing. Get **_away from my girlfriend_**. I will _not_ ask again, _gentlemen_.”

_Girlfriend._

She lets out a sigh, _I like that,_ she thinks.

X

Anisa and Sage aren’t far behind him, and with an overwhelming amount of power, the Starsworn take out the thugs, and—

“ _Anne_!”

With a shout, he finds her—a heap of bruises and blood and tears—and rushes over, collapsing on his knees in front of her.

With no hesitation he scoops her into his arms, casting healing spells—something he’s never been the _best_ at—whispering into her hair as her cradles her close, holding her like glass, yet so tightly you’d be a fool to try and separate them.

How foolish of those thugs to try.

X

She doesn’t see him so much as feel and smell him as he drops to his knees before her, then scoops her into his lap. Limp and boneless, so tired she can’t even move, she breathes him in—all pine needles, old books and moss—feeling more at peace than she ever has, despite the throbbing pain from scars scattered all over her body.

She can feel him shake as the weight of everything crashes, and tears pool in her eyes. As she registers his tears on her shirt, she musters up the energy to speak—dry as it may be—

“I told you I wasn’t leaving til’ you told me to.”

He chokes on a steadying breath, pulling her even closer as he hiccups, breaking down as the dam breaks, and tears and choked sobs spill from him in _waves_.

She can feel her exhaustion catching up to her, and forces herself to speak:

“I’m…so tired.”

He gathers himself, quickly as he can, and pulls away, just enough to wipe her tears and brush her hair out of her face, “It’s okay,” he whispers, forehead now resting against hers, “I’ve got you. Rest. I’ve got you…”

She sighs, finally, finally letting herself close her eyes, drifting out of consciousness in his warm embrace, nuzzling into him as she drifts far, far away.

As far from the pain as she can.

X

She wakes up in a warm bed, though it is too big for her alone.

Even before she fully registers where she is—Felix’ room—something feels off. Like something’s missing.

It’s him.

She sits up, scanning the room, but he’s not there.

Before she can spiral, wondering where he is, the door creaks open, giving way to a familiar face, etched with worry that morphs into relief upon seeing her awake—

“Sage?”

He smiles at her confusion, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he walks over, “the sleeping beauty finally awakens,” he says, then his smile dissipates, “you gave us quite the scare.”

She sighs, gaze sinking to her lap, where she fidgets with her fingers, and the bandages on her palms, “I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t…I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

He huffs, “None of us did. You have nothing to apologize for,” he sits down in a chair, running a hand through his hair, “we were all real worried, y’ know.” He frowns, brows furrowing, “though, no one was as worried as _Felix_.”

“Felix?” she asks, blinking as her gaze lifts.

Sage nods… _sagely_ , “Aye. He went all out trying to find ye’. He—” Sage falters, then shakes his head, “he’s never been that aggressive. Even I was getting scared.”

Anne sighs, gaze returning to her hands, covered in bruises and cuts.

“I…I don’t know what to say.”

Sage hums, standing, and her gaze follows, “Say thanks, or. Just talk to ‘im. He was halfway to insanity of you.”

Anne nods, distracted as he runs a hand through her hair, much like how an older sibling would.

“Get some sleep,” he says, heading for the door, and Anne nods.

Then she smirks, catching his gaze, “Since when did you get so wise?”

He grins, a wolfish look she associates with him, “oh don’t worry, just getting psyched for my date tonight.”

“Ugh,” she rolls her eyes, “you’re the _worst_.”

He shrugs, backing away through the door, hands in his pockets, tail swishing and ears twitching, “G’night, Anne.”

She hums, nodding, “Good night, Sage.”

X

When she wakes up next, Felix is curled up on the chair, peacefully sleeping.

It’s the most calm he’s been in a week.

X

He didn’t mean to wake her.

She just looked so peaceful—so content—he had to reach out and touch her. so he brushed some hair from her face, but it was enough to cause her to stir.

He freezes, watching with bated breath as she opens her eyes blearily, eyes unfocused with sleep.

He starts to pull away, but before he can get far, she grabs his hand, pressing it into her cheek. His face catches on fire as he watches a smile stretch across her lips and her eyes close again.

“Payback…hehe,” she says, quietly, probably not meaning to say it.

His muscles relax, and he sinks to his knees on the floor, resting his arms on the bed, cheek on his forearm. He watches her slowly wake, blinking as she nuzzles into his hand.

“Thank you,” she whispers, breath tickling his wrist, and he frowns.

“What for?” he asks.

“Everything,” she shrugs.

“You need not thank me,” he sighs, removing his hand from her grasp to comb through her hair, her arm still holding onto his arm, “I would not have let them have you. You are far too special to me.”

She smiles, opening her eyes, and the look of adoration sends his heart to his knees.

“I know,” she closes her eyes, briefly biting her lip before she next speaks, “I wasn’t completely out when you called me your girlfriend.”

His heart stops, and he’s suddenly hyperaware of it thrumming against his ribs as he sits up straight, pulling away from her in the process. “Is that so?”

He hums, slowly sitting up with a muted nod, “Yeah,” she tilts her head, hair a mess from days of not combing it, “I wouldn’t mind you calling me that again. Repeatedly.”

His heart stops as his eyes widen, flying to her in an instant. Her cheeks are flushed, smile on her lips radiant and warm, and he nearly gets lost in the chocolate brown of her eyes. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as his eyes scan her face, before he turns his focus to the wall.

“Is that so?” he hums, then clears his throat into a fist, returning his gaze to hers, “would that make me your boyfriend, then?”

She laughs, short but sweet, “I guess so.”

He hums, crawling onto the bed, hand inching towards hers, “…you had me worried, _girlfriend_.”

He watches her blink blankly, then as her flush deepens, studying the way she takes a second to catch her breath. “I’m sorry,” she says, finally, “I should have been more careful.”

He frowns, cupping her face in his hands, forcing her to look at him as he rests his forehead to hers, “Don’t apologize. It was not your fault, Barista. I’m just…relieved…you are _alive_.”

She hums, closing her eyes. Her hands slide up his chest, and she hums, feeling his heart beating frantically under her hand.

“…you know, you looked really hot beating up thugs, right?”

He snorts at her sudden bluntness, and she groans, closing her hands to fists, burying her face in the crook of his neck.

“I looked _hot_ did I?” he teases, voice a purr, “What did it for you, my love? Was it the fire? Or maybe the scythe?”

She mumbles into him, and he grins, faking not having heard her as he hums:

“I’m sorry, could you repeat that?”

She scoffs, pushing away so they are nose to nose, “I said, your eyes were glowing, and it was _hot_!”

He smirks, intertwining their fingers, gently tugging her closer, “Now, that wasn’t that hard, was it, my Barista?”

Her breath hitches, eyes widening. He’s captivating by deep brown, the urge to be closer swallowing him whole.

His eyes fly to her lips, red and looking deliciously soft, then back to her eyes.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks.

She chokes up, only managing to nod, clipped. He hums.

“Say it, I need to hear you say it.”

She hums, “Kiss me,” she says.

He doesn’t need telling twice, as he gently presses his lips to hers, hands cupping her face as hers lock around his neck, pulling him closer. Her lips are soft, and she tastes like honey, smells like jasmine, and is warm like a summer afternoon, and he loses himself to her.

She's pure heaven, and as he melts into the kiss, it feels as though everything slots into place-- that this is where they were always meant to end up. 

The inevitability of them together hits him like a well-aimed disarming spell. 


End file.
